


The secret life of spiders and apostates

by Akrois



Series: A Hero, a Champion and an Inquisitor walk into a story... [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life, english is not my first language, fight templars, kiss your boyfriend, male mage Hawke - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:05:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4415087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akrois/pseuds/Akrois
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 03.<br/>" - I had to follow the dead spiders. <br/>- Fine work, innit? Sammie here can kill a spider like no'nes business! <br/>- Maker, if you don't stop calling me Sammie I'm going to shove my foot up your arse so far...<br/>- And he's such a lil' ball'o sunshine! " </p><p>Young apostate Joshua Hawke likes to get himself in trouble and help mages. Younger warrior Carver Hawke likes to keep his brother free and relatively unharmed. Not so young apostate Anders would like more answers, but the flirting is all right too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: "bit of a fixer upper"

**Author's Note:**

> First thing first: english is not my first language. Therefore, feel free to correct me. Please, correct me. I really need it. Be ruthless. Be mean. I don't care. Just correct me.  
> Second: I swear there's a reason to Joshua's speech patterns and generally with the way he speaks. It'll be explained. Maybe. One day.

The secret life of spiders and apostates.

 

 

 

Prologue

“Bit of a fixer upper”

 

Days in Darktown tended to be mostly the same: an infinite stream of “please help me!”, “just a few coins, messere!” and the occasional “templars!” repeated again and again.

He didin't really wanted to complain about it. Darktown's sad predictability made it the safer spot in the city. Not the cleanest. Or the prettiest. Or the less-infested-by-ratsest. But there were worst place to be. The Gallows, for example.

Anders sunk his hands in a bowl of pinkish water, shaking his head. No, he wasn't going to complain about his clinic in Darktown. He had managed to get that arsehole of a place for free, and it was in a perfect position to help the mages who escaped the Gallows.

Still, he would have liked a place with better windows. And access to clean water. Maybe a place that didn't constantly smell like infected wounds and burned rats.

He grunted and quickly swiped his palms over his coat. He was complaining. Even worse, he was complaining while trying to not complain.

He took his coat off and let if fall on one of the empty wooden stretcher laying around the clinic, then he took his dinner out from behind a crate (not that he didn't trust his patients, but he could'nt risk losing that meager sandwich or he would end up chewing on rocks) and calmly started to eat.

When somebody knocked at the door. He huffed a breath around a mouthful of stale bread and slightly grey vegetables – I need nothing. And I already payed whatever you want me to pay! - the screamed at the door, before going back to his sandwich.

And the knocking didn't came back.

He trough that, for once, he would finally be able to eat a damned sandwich in peace. It didn't sound like an irreasonable thing. _**Just**_ eating a sandwich in peace.

Then, the door just swung open. Well. No. The door broke in exactly two pieces and showed a tall guy carriyng a sword in a hand and a man over his shoulder.

He let his sandwich fall on the crate – How do you dare to barge in like this- he screamed, blue light already shining thru the cracks on his hands – this place is- then the intruder let the man fall over on the stretchers – what happened?- the man was apparently unconscious, his face covered in blood and dirt. He made quick work of a terribly stitched vest and touched around the expanse of his abdomen and chest, counting at least three ruptured ribs – A fight?

\- Can you heal him?- the intruder was kneeling beside the man, his lyrium-blue eyes running over the various cuts and bruises – We can pay. Whatever you want. But please, help him. He can't die. Not like this.

Anders smiled – He only has a concussion. A few bruises, some cuts. Maybe his ribs will need more work than the rest. But I can help him, -

\- Carver.- the intruder said – I'm Carver. He is my brother.

\- I can help him, Carver- he raised his hands over the unmoving form – now, let me work my magic.

Carver sat back and, over the sound of the fade moving around him, Anders heard him mutter “how do it's always magic?” under his breath.

He gently pressed his fingertips over the man's forehead, minuscule tendrils on magic ripped to the veil making quick work of the broken blood vessels and skin. He directed his magic to the broken ribs, gently warping them with energy, setting them firmly before he let made them knit together.

There was something, right on the back of his abdomen. He could feel it, warped tissues and contracted muscles, a scar probably years old. He tugged gently at the knots, trying to set them loose, but they refused to open, firmly resisting his command.

\- Beth always tried to do that, you know?- said Carver – But it won't get better. You should spare yourself the effort, mage. It is only a old scar. And big brother is used to it, by now.

Anders nodded and retreaded his hands (not before giving another tug at the knot, finding it even more hard than before), slowly getting up – Your brother will awaken in a few moments. Does it bother you if I finish my dinner and wash up?

\- No. Thank you. We really owe you.

\- I would gladly accept a new door, dear Carver.- he said. Carver blushed and lowered his head, muttering something about keeping guard while Anders was busy and his brother fixing the door.

Unless the man was a skilled carpenter Anders was sure there were no ways to save his poor door, but there was always hope.

\- Good, I'll be over there. Call me if you need anything, all right?

He stood up and disappeared in the back of the clinic, shredding his clothes on the was and stepping over poor splinters.

 

 

The man awoke after a pair of hours. Good Maker, Anders was glad he did wake. Carver was surely a nice boy and everything, but having the boy perched on a stretcher and staring at him reminded him too much of his days in the circle. Silent and watchful, the boy would've made a good Templar.

He rusched at the man's side immidiatly when he heard him grunt, gazing attentively over his body for unchecked injuries and ematomas.

\- Shit- muttered the man – di'I slam on a wall? Was it a big one? Carvie, is the wall allright?- the man finally decided to open his eyes – Oh, good. I'm dead. This is the Maker's bosom. Are you the Maker? Because sure's dead you're pretty.

\- You are making the healer uncomfortable, brother.

\- Healer? Did'ya patched me up? Pretty and smart. Carvie, I owe you one. A big one. - the man showed him a big dumb grin, while his brother rolled his eyes back so much Anders thought they would fall from his head and roll on the ground.

\- How are you feeling? Your ribs hurt?

\- My lips 're hurting, my pretty. Kiss them better, would'ya?

\- Brought back from the brick of dead and the first thing you do is flirt with your healer- grunted Carver – you never change.

\- Never change a winning combination, Carvie.- the man pushed himself up on his elbows and smiled again – I'm Joshua, by the way. The grumpy one is-

\- Carver, I know. We introduced each other while you were out.- Anders sat next to him and pushed him gently on the stretcher, making him lie flat – Now, let me check you again, before you go.

\- Ya can check me a thousand times, honey.

Anders felt a bit of warm on his hears, but he pressed his lips in a thin line and proceeded with his work.

\- _**Templars**_.- muttered Carver, staring at his brother like he wanted to throttle him right now. 

\- Templars?

\- Of all the blighters in Kirkwall you had to pick up a fight with templars, didn't you? As if we need more attention!

\- They're messing up with Sammie. Can't let them do that, can we?

\- Samson's a asshole.

\- Point me a lad in Kirkwall who's not an asshole, Carvie, and I will buy you a round with a pretty girl of your choosing.

\- Spare me.

\- Good, more money for me.

He found again the knot and tried to tug at it whit a small tendril of magic. Joshua winced and turned towards him – Be a dear and don't touch that one.

\- Are you sure?- he stopped his magic, hands hovering his abdomen – I could try to-

\- Ah, don't waste your time on it. It's an hold thing.- he winked – And it's an hit with them lassie.

Unable to resist the urge, Anders gave him a little nudge on the shoulder – All right. Keep it, if you like it so much.

\- I do like it. Can I stand up, oh wise healer?

\- Oh?- Anders raised an eyebrow, a small smile on his lips – Am I wise, now?

\- And pretty. And smart. And kind. And I really can't see it from here, but I bet you've also a really nice arse.

Carver let out a frustrated growl that (thankfully) diverted Joshua's attention from his face. He was blushing like a virgin maiden, he was sure of it. He shook his head ad stood up. It had been so long since the last time someone paid him a compliment he nearly forgot how it felt.

\- Stand up, you blighted fool- muttered Carver, throwing the ruined vest in his brother's face – we have to go back home. Mother must be worried.

\- Yeah, she surely think I've killed her last baby.- muttered Joshua , raising himself slowly and turning away from Anders.

He felt the breath stop in his throat. Joshua's back was ad muscular as the rest of his body, but the dark skin was marred by long, precise scars from neck to hips (and he could swear they went even lover, by the way they appeared from under his pants), the pattern only broken by a big, uneven burn mark on his right lower back.

He wanted to say something, maybe ask why and where he managed to get so many scars, but when he raised his head, his eyes met Carver's.

The boy towered over his brother by at least a foot, and the was even a bit taller than Anders himself. But the height difference was apparently perfect to shot the healer a petrifying stare that stopped the words right at the tip of his tongue. He saw Carver slowly spell the word “don't”, as he lowered his hand on Joshua's shoulder.

\- Good, time to go, then.- Joshua smiled at him again – Hope to see ya soon, honey. Maybe when I'm not on the brick of death, yes?

Anders could only nod, body still frozen in place by Carver's stare.

\- Fix the door.

\- What door.

\- The broken one. I told the healer you'd fix it.

\- Ah, that one. I don't know, it gives the place more charme...

\- Fix it and shut up.

\- As you command, Carvie.

Anders felt the Veil shift even before Joshua raised his hands, magic gushing all over the place like a waterfall, directing itself on the poor reamins of his door. He watched as splinters and pieces of wood were raised in the air and put themselves back together quickly.

“He is a mage” he thought, staring at the (now fixed) door “that man is a mage”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. 01. The shadowy swallowtail sways in the sunset (or something like that)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He could see them in his mind, his friends triumphant cheering and the young mages behind them, scared and tired but finally free.   
> Free to live their lives, free to have a home, friends, a family even. Free to cook for themselves and stand in the rain, never again under someone's command, never again subjected to someone's whim.

 

01

The shadowy swallowtail sways in the sunset (or something like that).

 

 

 

 

After the encounter with the strange apostate who oblivious had a concussion and his war hound of a brother, life went back to normal.

Well, relatively normal. Normal for Anders, anyway (which was “pretty much absurd” on a regular person scale of normality).

He hadn't meet the mage again. But he had probably passed around his clinic, if the little bouquet of herbs and the pouch of coins left beside the door where his doing. Anders passed an embarrassing amount of time staring at the herbs and coins, wondering when and how the man managed to get to Darktown without anyone noticing. Maybe he lived somewhere near. Or worked for the Carta. Those slyly little thugs where the only ones allowed to roam Dartown freely at every our of the day.

But today wasn't a day for musing over a stranger and his strange gift. Today was a **great** day.

He was standing next to the door of his clinic, staff in his hand and a old ratty mantle on his shoulder, the hood nearly covering his entire face.

Justice was already cheering. Well, maybe cheering wasn't the right word, since Justice's thoughts weren't really _thoughts_. It was more like a warm, exultant feeling somewhere deep in his brain, a little thing that somehow felt like eating after days of starvation.

Anders closed his eyes and hummed, basking in that feeling for a moment.

It felt good to feel that way. It felt good to help other people feel that way. At every minute now the others of the underground where going to show up from around the corner.

He could see them in his mind, his friends triumphant cheering and the young mages behind them, scared and tired but finally free.

Free to live their lives, free to have a home, friends, a family even. Free to cook for themselves and stand in the rain, never again under someone's command, never again subjected to someone's whim.

Somewhere in his mind, Justice rumbled and growled, but Anders only shook his head. Karl was going to be free soon, he thought, but for now it was better if he stayed in the Gallows.

From there, he and Anders could easily organize the escapes and, as an harrowed mage, Karl couldn't be threatened with tranquillity.

Again, Justice pushed a bit, literally dusting off an old thing in his mind.

_The_ _Aeonar_.

Yes, Karl wasn't safe from tranquillity, but the the Aeonar? Meredith would never send a mage to the Aeonar. She was more likely to kill him on the spot.

Ah, that line of thought had derailed somewhere terrible.

He shook his head and went back to his vigil.

Vigil that didn't last that long, since not even five minutes after he finally heard voices and steps.

Anders took a step forward, and what he saw wasn't was he was expecting.

He could see Marien holding up a young girl by the waist, her slim harm lying limp across Marien's shoulders. Behind them another girl was stumbling towards the clinic, using her staff as a crutch to keep herself up. He ran to them, quickly scooping up the stumbling girl – What happened?- he asked Marien, trying to be heard over the girl's crying.

\- An ambush. Templars. Shit, Anders, we'll never be able to use that tunnel again.

\- What about Marvin? And where's the other kid? Karl said he was sending three apprentices.

The girl in his harm wailed loudly and started to cry even harder, clenching her staff like a lifeline – He tried to help us!- she said – But one of them, that blasted bastard, he _silenced him_! I saw the sword, the Templar's sword, that blasted thing, cutting trough his shoulder and then, **then**!- she started to sob again and her words drowned in her tears.

\- Shut up, Libby!- croaked the girl with Marien – He's fine, stop screaming like a blighted banshee, for the Maker's sake!

Anders turned to her – He's fine?

\- Yeah, he's fine. Well, as fine as he can be.- the girl turned to see behind them – Your friend is bringing him and your other friend. He got a good beating too.- she tried to smile, showing him her blood-stained teeth – You'll have lot of work tonight.

\- Well, good thing my dinner date was postponed.- said Anders, opening the clinic's door with his foot and hushing the two women inside, before he gently placed Libby over a crate – Where does it hurt, Libby? Is it Libby, right?

\- Liberace. - said the girl between sobs – I'm Liberace. Tessa just likes to call me Libby.

\- Liberace is a mouthful.- grumbled Tessa from her crate – And Libby suits you!

\- It doesn't!- huffed Liberace – Go and check on her, healer. It's just a sprained ankle, I can take care on myself.

Anders lightly touched the swollen flesh and smiled up at her – Compassion?

\- Faith.- she said – She's good to me. I couldn't have asked for a better companion.- she had a small watery little smile on her lips; her head canted lightly to her side, where the Veil rippled and moved, as if it wanted to hold her.

\- Ehy!- shouted Tessa – You two weird assholes can gush over your pretty _spirity_ partners later! Maybe when I'm not about to lose an arm!

\- She's a force mage. - said Liberace shrugging her shoulders.

\- Don't say anything, I got the type.

He had just started to check on Tessa's arm when the door barged open again (this time without breaking, thank the Maker for small mercies) and a man ran inside, two staffs strapped on his back and one man held under each arm.

Well, a man and a boy.

\- Tommen!- shouted Liberance, wobbling toward – Is he alive? Is he allright?

The man nodded at her, his face covered up to his nose by a piece of red cloth – He'll live.-

He gently put Tommen and Marvin on a stretcher and quickly unstrapped one of the staff from his back, letting it fall on the ground. Then he turned at Anders

\- Bit of an'rd day, healer. Fixed them as much as I could've, but you better check.- he stuck his hand inside a small satchel attached to his belt and then pushed three vials of liryum on Anders's chest – Took those from them templars. You'll need it more than me. Marien, I'll see ya' at the Hang'd Man, alright?

Then he turned around and ran out, leaving Anders standing in front of the door, the vials of liryum faintly glowing in his hand. - Wait!- he ran after him, trying to stop the man from disappearing, but he was already gone. But how could that be? Unless he was able to teleport or fly, there was no way a man could disappear just like _that_.

\- Ehy!- called a voice from inside – Healer! I would like to get by arm back to work!

Anders nodded at the darkness and went back inside, carefully blocking the door behind himself.

Marien was spreading a potion over an array of scratches and tears on both her arms, while Liberace was checking on the boy – He's alive!- she cried out – He's alive! Tessa, Tommen is alive!

\- Good for him. Check on the other one too, since you're at it. The healer has to get my arm back and working again.

Anders sat next to her, carefully inspecting the bloodied limb. He pushed inside the torn muscle, moving his thin tendrils of magic around to knit together torn tissues and blood vessels. But deep inside was harder. He pinched at the nerves slowly, trying to figure out how to put them together again. Justice trusted forward, putting some of his energy at Anders's disposal.

\- Ehy, healer, do you always glow like that?- muttered Tessa, her eyes fixed on his hand, running over the bright blue cracks that just appeared on his pale flesh.

\- Only when there's full moon.

Tessa cracked a laugh – You are a funny healer! Marien didn't tell me we where going to meet a funny healer!

Anders smiled at her – Will I still be funny wen I tell you that you won't be able to move your middle finger from now on?

\- What? No more flipping the bird at templars? Bad healer, bad. I don't like you anymore.

\- You can always show them your other middle finger.

\- That's true. Good, I like you again.

She raised her arm, wiggling her fingers and touching them together – I can't really feel my pinkie.

\- I'm sorry, nerves are-

\- Oh, shush. I know it's hard. Libby is always making' my head this big with all the “spirit healing is hard, you can't just fix thing by snapping your fingers!” crap. You did your best, and my arm still work.- she hopped down from the crate – I could be arm-less. Or lifeless. You are good healer, keep going at it.

Anders smiled at her and patted her uninjured shoulder – There's a basin in the back, and clean clothes. Go and wash yourself, tomorrow will be a long day.

Tessa smiled, and Anders felt like he could live for smiles like that one. Big, bright, _**hopeful**_. The kind of smile you see on someone who finally gained their freedom back.

He watched as Tessa disappeared behind the backdoor and then turned his attention on the two remaining patient.

Liberace had apparently already checked the boy, who was now sleeping on the stretcher, his head propped on a bunch of dusty rag. The girl was fumbling around with Marvin's armor, trying to reach his skin for a closer inspection.

\- Wait- he said, crunching next to her – let me handle this.

\- Are you sure? You used a lot of mana.

He uncorked one of the vials and sipped down the liryum inside, throwing the empty thing away – It's better if I take care of him. You're still an apprentice.

She muttered something about being _good enough for an apprentice_ , but still she scooted away and let Anders take over.

He laid his hand on Marvin's chest and pushed again inside him, energy renewed by the liryum and Justice's help.

What he found was pretty much to be expected from a man who got a good, harsh beating. Cuts, bruises, some internal damages (someone must have kicked him while he was down) but there was something else.

Marvin was pale and his skin covered in cold sweat; his heart was beating faster than normal and his fingertips where getting blueish.

He knew those where the sign of blood loss, but still – Liberace, take one of those boxes down there- he ordered – and put it under his legs, they have to be higher than his head.

While the girl was putting the box under Marvin's legs, Anders searched from the cause of the blood loss, but he couldn't find any.

No internal bleeding of any sort, no cuts on his head or other parts where blood vessels where thick and could cause massive hemorrhage. He wasn't going to die, but that was still strange.

\- Is he all right?- asked Liberace, her hands twisting the hem of her robe – Tommen is fine. Your friend, the one with the red scarf, he must have helped him.

\- Did you see him?

She shook her head – He stayed behind to fight the templars off from Tommen. Your friend was fighting with him.

\- I understand. You can go and wash up, if you want. There's clothes for you too. Tell Tessa to feel free to use the bed, and make sure she makes room for you.

Liberace giggled – If I know her, she's already out cold, taking all the space.

As Liberace shut the door, Anders sat down beside Marien, eyes still focused on the two sleeping forms on the stretchers – Who's him?

\- Marvin? Anders, you know Marvin. You delivered his wife's baby last month.

\- I know who Marvin his!- huffed Anders – I mean the other one. With the red scarf.

\- Oh. The Hawk. I don't know his name, but he's a good one. We've meet at the Hanged Man.

\- I've never seen him.

\- He's been with us for a pair of months, I think. Mostly sabotage. That kid knows how to navigate those effing tunnels, I swear. And he's good at killing spiders.

\- He's a mage.

\- You're a mage too, and yet I'm talking with you all the same.

\- That's not what I meant. He is a mage. An apostate. You don't see many apostate in Kirkwall.

\- I can see one _right now_.- Marien sing-sang – I think he's Fereldan. But his accent is strange. Maybe he traveled around a lot and ended up in Kirkwall?

\- That could be plausible. Nobody plans on visiting Kirkwall. People tend to end up here.

\- Like you, healer?

\- No, I'm one of those magical and mysterious creatures who wanted to visit Kirkwall.

She huffed a laugh – Anyway, the Hawk's good. He wanted to help, and help he did. Don't spit on free help, Anders.

\- I'm not complaining. I'm just curios.

\- Ahh- Marien elbowed him, wiggling her eyebrows – you like him!

\- I only met him for two minutes!- exclaimed Anders, pure outrage in his expression.

\- Ah, the rush of the fight! The common cause! The help of the darkness! Those amazing biceps!

\- I didn't really noticed the biceps. I had a patient screaming at me the whole time.

\- Well, next time I'll make sure you have more time to appreciate him. Really, he's the first mage I met who doesn't look like a flagpole.

\- Ouch- he clutched at his chest – that one really hurts.

\- Never said you look bad, healer. Maybe you should rethink the feathers. - she jumped up on her feet and started to fix her armor, picking up her ungodly amount of throwing knifes from around the clinic – Time for me to go home. Momma won't babysit all night, poor woman. She said she's knitting a scarf for you.

\- Another grey one?

\- Don't tell anyone, but she managed to find green yarn. It's going to look so good on you!- she bent down ad kissed him on the cheek – Call me again when your Karl has someone for us, all right? But not too soon, we have to find another tunnel. Maybe one not full of spiders.

Anders smiled ad waved at her, watching as she blended in the darkness.

He sat down for a while, thinking about the evening and about that Hawk man.

He was sure he had heard that voice somewhere else, but he couldn't really put his finger on it.

 

When he opened the door to his room he found the two girls sleeping together; Tessa holding Liberace's head tight to her chest, their legs intertwined under blankets and robes.

He smiled and closed the door.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The girl is named Liberace for reasons.   
> So many reasons.   
> Like “I suck at naming characters” and “why I can't name everyone Jimmy and be done with it”. 
> 
> I would like to thank everyone for reading this, and leaving kudos (and thinkfirst for the comment)!  
> As usual, critics and corrections are more than welcomed.


	3. 02. Not Santa, but still  red.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \- Do you really know so much about horses?  
> \- Nah, I made all that up.

 02.

Not Santa, but still red.

 

 

 

 

Three days later, the Red Hawk appeared at his door. Well. More like “The Red Hawk flung the door open and then stepped inside like he was in his own home”.

Which was regarded as a bad idea by Anders (who dropped an entire pile of boxes), Tessa (who squeaked and threw herself at Liberace, effectively hiding her behind a crate) and little Tommen (who screamed so loudly he probably woke all the corpses in Nevarra).

In all of this, the Red Hawk was just standing in front of the door, unaware of the disaster he nearly caused.

\- Rough day?

Anders huffed and bent down to retrieve his load from the floor – Are you physically incapable of knocking?- the growled – This is the second time you barge in without permission.

The Hawk laughed behind his red scarf and quickly reached Anders, helping him to gather the boxes – Sorry, sorry, 's fault. Really, I'm sorry.- he raised his head – Tessa! Libby! Get out from behind tha'crate, it's just me!

Tessa's head appeared from behind the crate – You ass! You scared the shit out of us! Why the fuck you didn't knock we- Liberance appeared beside her, pushing her head down and completing the phrase for her – You know who doesn't knock? Templars don't knock at doors! You scared poor Tommen for life!- she shrieked, pointing at the boy hiding under a pile of dirty blankets.

\- Oh- the man lowered his head, staring at the boxes in his hands – I'm sorry, I won't- he rubbed his boots on the floor mindlessly and then shook his head – I was raised in a barn. I'm so sorry healer. I'll try to knock, next time 'round.

Anders sighed – The boxes go on that shelf.- the Hawk raised his head and rushed immediately to place the boxes over the (precariously balanced) shelves - Not the green one, that one goes in my room.

\- Underwear?

\- Who said I wear any?

Cue various noises of disgust from the three apprentices rolling up bandages just a few feet from them.

The Hawk laughed loudly and brought the box inside Anders's room – Aren't you both too old to flirt?

\- Are you ever too old to flirt?

\- Flirting is for teens!- grumbled Tessa – Not grown-ass men. Teens say corny phrases and bad innuendos. When my parents where your age they already had a farm, four kids and three horses. And they didn't _flirt_.

\- I didn't know your parents where wanted apostates hiding in a sewer and helping mage escape imprisonment.

\- They had _three horses_.

\- Who has horses?- chirped the Hawk, exiting the room in all his grace and glory – I love horses. Where them Kinsky? Vanner? Hirzai?

Tessa's mouth clicked shut and the girl stared silently at ground for a while – They where brown.

\- What? I love brown horses, tell me more!- he sat on a crate, swinging his legs in the air like an exited children.

\- Nobody wants to hear about the horses anymore. - said Tessa – They say it's a boring story.

\- Well, I never heard that one. And I like horses. Com'on Tessa, don't keep me hangin'.

\- All right, fine!- Tessa turned toward him – So, it was near Wintersend and-

 

 

 

Anders passed the next hours devoting his muscles to the cause of cleaning his clinic. Which was certainly a good cause, but not the easiest one.

Still, after much working he deemed the clinic clean enough. He shooed a rat inside a hole in the wall and then went back to the Hawk and the apprentices, only to find the man covering the three sleeping bodies with an exaggerate amount of blankets.

\- Was the story that boring?

\- A bit. A little bit. - he shrugged his shoulders – A total bore, but them kids 're sleeping, so 'tis good.

\- Good indeed. Do you really know so much about horses?

\- Nah, I made all that up.

He let himself fall over a crate and looked up at the man – It's beyond my comprehension.

\- What, sleep? It's easy, you lay down like that, and then close yer eyes and count sheep. Don't count mabaris, or ya'll never get a wink of sleep.

\- Are you always this funny or it's just for my sake?

The Hawk exhibited himself in a grand bow and winked – I strive to please, oh healer.

He chucked behind his hand – How do a man such as you ends up in Kirkwall, I wonder?

\- Many ways- he sat next to him, never taking his scarf off and leaving at least a palm between them – want me to count them all?

\- Oh, Maker, no. The night isn't _that_ long.

The Hawk laughed again. That man was easily amused, that much was evident.

\- Ehy, look – he ripped a small pouch from his belt and let it fall on Anders's legs – I've meet Lirene and she said this is for them kids. 'here's also a part for ya.

Anders raised the pouch in his hands – It's- he passed it from hand to hands, listening to the coins clinking against each others – too much money. I can't accept. Please, at least bring back my part.

\- So Lirene can snap ma neck? No way, healer. It's for you.

\- I really can't accept this.

\- Whant me to point a knife at yer back and force ya to take it?

\- Maker, no!

\- Good. I have no knifes on me, right at this moment.

He sighed again and let the pouch slide in his pocket – Ya should buy some more blankets. Always sleeping with that one sheet?

\- You nosed around my room?

\- That ugly thing was hard to miss.

\- Oh, why, do you sleep on fine orlesian sheets?

\- Yep. Surrounded by pretty lass and a pair of good-looking lads.

\- I can only imagine.

\- Ya can? I really can't picture it. I mean, how can a bed be that big?

\- You are either the worst or best man I've ever met in my entire life.

\- I strive to please.

The Hawk stood up and turned towards the sleeping teens – What will be of them?

\- Marien has contacted some people outside Kirkwall. They have a farm and need help. I don't know how Tessa will take it, she doesn't seem much like the “earn your daily bread” type.

\- She'll love it, believe me. Farms are good for kids. Gives them strong arms and a good sense of fairness.

\- That's the fanciest word I have ever heard you say.

\- Ehy, I can be fancy! Tomo'w I'll bring some poetry and show ya.

\- I'll pass, thank you.

\- Yer loss, healer.

They stayed in silence for a bit, listening to the sea splashing outside of the windows and Liberace soft snoring. Or was it Tessa's? No, it was definitely Liberace.

\- When will they be gone?

\- Tomorrow or the day after, I believe.

\- I don' know if I'll be able to be here then. But please- he let another package fall on his laps – give them this for me, yes? Bit more of money can never hurt.

\- I will.

\- And, after the kids are gone, there's something I want 'o show you in the sewers. Maybe I've found another passage, but first you have to see it.

\- I will come with you, then.

\- Thanks, healer.

He headed to the door, but before his hand ever reached the handle, Anders's voice stopped him – I'm Anders.

\- 'ha?

\- My name is Anders. You know, not “healer”.

\- Anders- there was something strange about the way he rolled the “r” in his name, but it wasn't unpleasant to hear – suits you.

\- Because I look like an ander?

\- No idea of how anders looks like. But it suits you. Also feathers suits you, but you don't look like a pigeon.

\- Maker, you're absurd.

\- As I said I-

\- strive to please, I know.- he touched his shoulder, but the man moved immediately, turning to face him and making his hand fall in the air.

\- Anyway, ya should get some more blankets. 'tis cold in Darktown.

And with that, he opened the door and quickly fled the clinic.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First: don't get used to these quick updates. I'm writing this much only because I've passed the last week chained to the desk trying to put together my damn thesis. And a girl has to distract herself from mangled body parts once in a while.  
> Second: curse the day I decided to gave Joshua that stupid accent. Curse it. Fuck it. I hate it. My competence in the English language is not good enough to write accents and strange way of speech.


	4. 03 " Remember, you're never alone. The spiders are always with you. "

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He watched the child run out of the door. He took a long breath, stuffed the message in his pocket and left for a new marvelous adventure.   
> In the sewers.   
> Why it was always the blighted sewers?!

03   
Remember, you're never alone. The spiders are always with you. 

 

He heard again from The Hawk five days later, thanks to a message delivered via urchin post service.   
Ah, urchins! Those snot-nosed, lice-ridden and quick-handed little brats were the best part of Darktown's scenery and also his best patients. No one can get himself in danger like an urchin. No one shows gratitude like an urchin.  
Ah, urchins.   
He looked up at the urchin (a little dark-haired boy who was stuffing his face with a stale cinnamon roll and nosing around his clinic) wondering if The Hawk made the kid write the letter of if the real letter was lost in some gutter and the kid tried to replace it at the best of his ability.   
The piece of paper still smelled of bread and carried a few disconnected and gracelessly-written words on it's stained surface. But his worries increased when he started to actually read the message.  
“I will be waiting for you in the sewers, near the far south-east passage. I strongly suggest you bring something to offer to the spiders, otherwise they wont leave you alone. The Hawk”.   
Right. Childish writing and dainty words. A tramp. Probably set by templars. Dainty templars. Templars who drank their tea with their pinkie finger sticking out.   
He turned to the kid – Are you sure it was The Hawk, yes? Not someone in armor with a big flaming sword drawn on their chest?   
\- Yes messere!- chirped the child – Well, he was no hawk, messere, just a men, but he had a red scarf and said he was The Hawk, messere, so it must be him, there were no templars messere, no no!   
\- If I'm walking right in a trap I swear-he muttered under his breath, retrieving his staff from under a table – what are you going to do, child? Do you want to stay here?   
\- Me? I'm going back to Lowtown, messere, have work to do. Do you have more of this?- he waved around the last piece of pastry around – It's good, messere!   
Anders smiled – Sadly I don't. But if you ever pass by the bakery with the green sign above the door, tell them the healer sends you and you'll get another one.   
\- Yes messere, thank you!  
He watched the child run out of the door. He took a long breath, stuffed the message in his pocket and left for a new marvelous adventure.   
In the sewers.   
Why it was always the blighted sewers?!

 

 

Apparently there was no need to worry about the spiders. Judging by sheer amount of ripped legs and spider slime littering the passages, somebody had already taken care of the hairy threat.   
Still, even if some of the spiders where clearly killed with magic (charred remains stuck to the ceiling means angry mage) some other displayed the clear signs of a sword.   
Uhm, maybe the Hawk had brought someone with him. Maybe Marvin?   
No, Marvin was still home, whining about his wounds and getting fussed over by his ever-patient wife. That poor woman, juggling a child in a crib and a bigger child in her bed.   
He turned around, finally spotting a short man with the scarf around his face and head.   
And another man. A man who looked like he hadn't slept properly or eaten anything of decent nutritional value in a few months. Or a year and some.   
\- Anders!- the Hawk waved at him, the fabric on his face stretching in a way that suggested a smile – Ya made it! I thought ya weren't going to!  
\- For the sake of a long and prolonged friendship: “far south-east passage” is a terribly general direction that ensure someone will get lost.  
\- But ya found us, didn't ya?   
\- I had to follow the dead spiders.   
\- Fine work, innit? Sammie here can kill a spider like no'nes business!   
\- Maker, if you don't stop calling me Sammie I'm going to shove my foot up your arse so far...  
\- And he's such a lil' ball'o sunshine!   
Anders blinked really slowly – I'm charmed.  
\- Yes, introductions! Anders, here's Sammie; Sammie, he's Anders.  
\- The one whose pants you're so desperate to get in?   
\- I'm goin' to piss in your bed.   
\- If only I had one.   
\- I would hate to be the one who cough discreetly and tries to get the discussion on track, but coff coff- he coughed in such a fake way he wouldn't have been able to fool a five years old – can we get the discussion on track? Why am I here? What is your friend doing here?   
-Ah, yes!- was the Hawk a bit red around the hears? No, it was probably just an impression. - Ya took your staff with ya? Good, good.   
\- Why are you always surrounded by mages?   
\- 's not my fault if yer not as pretty as little ol' me. All mages end up yearning for a piece o'this.   
\- Another fancy world! You always surprise me, Hawk.   
\- Yeah, yeah, he's a mine of surprises. Come on, I've got no time to lose!   
\- What, ya've got a schedule to keep? “Six o'clock, scream at couples in Hightowon”, “nine 'n half, drink meself to dead and be miserable”?  
\- Yes I do. And I'm waiting for you at the Hanged Man at nine and half.   
\- Never goin' to miss rat flavored whiskey and sadness.   
\- As much as the little show is entertaining, I do have a schedule to keep and patients to help. So, I would go ba-   
\- No, wait- The Hawk waved his hands around, stopping him mid-word – 'kay, lo', ya remember about that passage I spoke about?   
\- Yes, I do.   
\- See- he pointed behind the curtain of tangled vines and piled boxes behind himself – there's a passage here, goes right to the Gallows.   
\- Problem being?   
\- The entire place is overrun by liryum smugglers.- chimed Samson – We kill them, we get a nice safe passage to the Gallows and all their liryum.   
\- And what do you get?- asked Anders, eyes jumping from the vines to Samson's trembling hand convulsing around the hilt of his sword.   
\- I get as much dust as I want.   
\- You are no mage, what would you do with all that liryum?   
\- Samson was a Templar- muttered the Hawk – that's how he knows about this passage.   
\- A templar. Care to give me one single reason to believe he's helping for the good of his heart and not on Meredith's orders?   
\- 'cause this idiot is more likely to hands me liryum than that old tart!- Samson let out a dry, rasping chuckle – You really think I give a fuck about her? No. This asshole right here gives me liryum and shit to kill, so it's all good for me. Better here that begging for coins in Lowtown.   
\- Anders, he's good. Really.   
\- If he endangers our cause- he could feel Justice's voice in his words, barely more than a whisper and still as violent as an hurricane – I'll kill him.   
\- Duly noted. - grumbled Samson getting his sword out – So, we're killing smugglers or what? 

 

Anders ended up falling on his bed, his staff laying on the ground somewhere around the clinic.   
\- How many smugglers we killed?- he croaked, arms and legs sprawled like a starfish – I feel like we fought for hours.   
\- An' we did!- exclaimed the Hawk, slamming the clinic's door closed and throwing his blood-caked overcoat on a table, before diving right on the ground next to Anders's bed – And 't was so fuckin' great! It was great, wasn'it?   
\- I can't feel my legs.   
\- Good sign!   
\- You are lying on the floor. Why are you screaming and laying on the dirty ground?   
\- 'cause I got to pretend I'm not completely knackered!- he chirped, rolling around in the dust and old dirt – I'm already dirty, anyway.   
\- You'll need to take a bath.   
\- I'll just swim around the Docks, don't worry. Gets you clean 'n sparkly.   
Anders leaning from the side of the bed - Why you don't get on the bed? I'm sure it's more comfortable than the floor.-   
The Hawke chuckled and shook his head – Nah, I'm goin' to dirt yer bed and yer pretty new blanket. Lirene's money paid off?   
\- One of my patients knitted it for me.   
\- Please, tell me ya kept the money.   
\- I may or may not have given some of it away.   
\- A saint. Or a stupid man. Or both. A stupid saint?   
\- I like that title. Anders, the stupid saint, protector of mages and cats.   
\- Ya didn't do a good work, oh saint. There're no cats in Darktown.   
\- Can't help it if the refugees are scaring them.   
Hawk laughed a bit, before he raised his head and stared at Anders for a bit, the red scarf still around his damned face (but the part around his head had fallen a wile back, and now Anders could finally see a dirty mane of black air sticking everywhere) – Ya know, I wanted to thank you.   
\- Me? For what?   
He shrugged his shoulders – For all. I've always wanted to help mages, but never really managed to- he turned his head around a bit, resting against the bed – I'now I'm strange, but you're good. You and the others. I'm happy to help-   
\- And I'm happy to have you around, Hawk.   
The silence that followed was broken by Anders – Would you tell me something about yourself?   
\- Only if ya tell me something about ya'.   
\- I'm Anders. I'm not an anders. I escaped the circle eight times?   
\- Uhm, nice. I'm The Hawk. I come from Hawkingtown. I do a lot of hawk-ish things.   
\- That one was really bad.   
\- Oh, yes, it was.   
\- Will I see you again?  
\- Am I goin' anywhere?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad and I passed the last two weeks playing The Witcher 1&2\. And you know what I'll do next week?  
> Yes, I'll play The Witcher 3.   
> But I'm making a promise: I'll read, make notes, and study hard, so that the next chapter will not only be out of Darktown, but it will also contain...............descriptions.   
> Maybe I will describe places! Or people! Or things! Who know! So many possibilities!


End file.
